Pride and Prongs
by gracedkelly
Summary: Lily is trying to solve the mystery that is James Potter, the Duke of Newcastle. James Potter is trying to keep himself and his friends alive. Sirius Black is too busy living up to his reputation as a rake, while Remus and Peter are trying their best to cause mischief wherever they go. And the ton? The ton does what the ton does best; it gossips. Regency Jily AU.
1. Plan Potter

**A/N: These characters belong to JK Rowling. I only lay claim to the plot and my own OC's.**

Hello everyone,

Did you miss me? I'm back!

I decided to write this story because I have recently become obsessed with historical romances. Please note that I am in **no way** **an expert on the Regency era.** There will be some historical inaccuracies. I will try to avoid them as much as I can but like I said I'm not an expert.

Depending on the response I'll get for this story, I might turn this into a series. (I already have a title and plot ideas for Sirius' story!)

I am not a native English speaker, so spelling and grammatical mistakes will be unavoidable. This is why I am working together with my lovely beta, Ali, to avoid most of them. But we're only human... If you come across any mistakes or inaccuracies, feel free to point them out to me.

You can find a short glossary/summary (of sorts) at the end of every chapter. It can be rather hard to keep up with all the titles and this should make things a bit easier for you all.

Depending on your response I will upload a new chapter every Friday!

I hope you enjoy this, and PLEASE let me know what you think!

Love,

Kelly

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Plan Potter**

Lily Evans stared out of her window, her needlework lay forgotten on her lap. She had read the most interesting novel and her thoughts were now taken over by the glorious Lord Travis and how he had won the heroine's heart. It was most extraordinary, indeed.

"What is?" asked her best friend and confidante, Marlene.

"Hm?" She absentmindedly picked her needle up again.

"You said that something was extraordinary."

"If you are talking about my needlework," grumbled Alice, "I can assure you that it is not." She stared at her work with such a disgusted face that Lily could barely muster the decency not to giggle.

Marlene, of course, wasn't bothered by such things as propriety and laughed wholeheartedly. "No one would ever suggest such a thing, Alice," she assured her with a playful smile.

"Oh hush," huffed Alice, but it was clear as day that she thought the whole thing highly amusing as well.

"So what was it then? If not Alice's needlework?" Marlene prodded, curious. Marlene McKinnon was the kind of girl that made one believe in angels. Her blond hair and sparkling blue eyes made most men weak in the knees but it was her wit that Lily treasured most. She had often wished that she was as carefree as her best friend, and even though Lily Evans had more than enough witty banter of her own, she could never find the courage to wield it as Marlene did. Sure, Lily was clever and humorous with her friends but the _ton_ frowned upon such things. Individuality was not necessarily a thing to be praised.

As her father often said; ladies are to be seen and admired, not heard.

As if Miss Lily Evans, daughter of Baron Evans, and doomed not to inherit her own title, would ever settle for being a trophy on some fancy Lord's arm.

"I was thinking of a novel I had recently read," Lily finally replied with a small smile.

"Oh!" Alice exclaimed. "It was 'Romelza's Road To Love ' wasn't it? I told you you would love it, Lily. I am so glad."

Lily shook her head enthusiastically. "It was amazing," she gushed. "Not in the least bit realistic, of course, but oh so entertaining."

Alice frowned. "Why on God's good Earth wouldn't it be realistic?"

"Have you seen the title?" smirked Marlene in her usual unladylike fashion. "Any novel with a title such as that is bound to be miserable."

"But it wasn't," Lily butted in, "it was a lovely story."

"But," Marlene said on the exact same tone Lily had previously used, "unrealistic."

"Well, yes." Lily gave Alice an apologetic look.

The latter sighed. "I just don't understand why you two don't believe in a love like that. When Lord Travis sacrificed his own good reputation to get the woman of his dreams... I wish I had a man like that in my life."

Lily exchanged a look with Marlene and sighed. In all honesty, she couldn't disagree with Alice. She wanted a love like that in her own life as well but one had to be rational in situations like these. There were hardly any Viscounts out there that would gamble away their inheritances because they were so smitten with their fiancées. Members of the _ton_ simply did not do such irrational things.

Besides, every Viscount Lily knew was either really old or friends with Lord Potter and she most certainly would never associate with that crowd.

Unless they addressed her of course. She could hardly give _them_ the cut. Oh, how the _ton_ would gossip!

"Lily? Are you feeling well?"

Once more Marlene had brought her back to reality. "Yes, I apologize. Just gathering wool, I suppose."

"I know what wool you were gathering," smirked Marlene again. "What did His Grace do this time?"

"His Grace did nothing _this time_ ," Lily glowered, brandishing her needlework like a weapon.

"No wonder you two don't believe in true love with that attitude," Alice intervened quickly before Lily could throw it at Marlene's lovely head.

They both looked away guiltily and Lily slowly lowered her arm. As if it were perfectly normal to hold one's needlework high in the air like a Highlander would wield a sword.

She could always pretend she was just exercising, Lily thought, if her mother decided to barge in.

"Honestly," Alice sighed mockingly, "what would your mothers say?!"

Their gazes met and Lily smiled cheekily at her until Alice finally cracked and laughed.

Marlene soon joined in, and it wasn't until Alice had tears in her eyes from laughing too hard that they finally calmed down again, and rang for some more tea.

* * *

"Lady Marlene will be with you shortly, miss. She asked me to let you wait in the Green Room."

Lily smiled politely at the McKinnon's new butler. George, Lily believed he was called, had not been employed by the McKinnon's long enough to know that Lily had known the Green Room as the Yellow Room at some point in her youth.

Not his fault of course, and she could hardly blame him for being so utterly correct and polite. Needless to say, Lily liked the man immediately. "Thank you."

She allowed him to lead the way to the Green Room and removed her coat before she sat down.

"Oh dear Heavens," exclaimed George – or was it Henry? - as he rushed towards her again. "Shall I take your coat, miss? I am terribly sorry-"

Lily interrupted him before he decided his "great and terrible offense" needed to be dealt with on his knees. "It's quite fine. We were planning to take a stroll in the park anyway but thank you."

"Will you be taking any tea?"

Lily smiled again. It was a miracle, really, that her cheeks did not hurt as much every evening as one would expect. On the other hand, every lady and little miss had been trained to smile as if salvation itself was waiting for her if she smiled _just_ a little brighter. Needless to say, Lily had hated her governesses even though their nagging had obviously paid off. Lily Evans could smile a hundred different ways, even if she was screaming on the inside. "No, thank you."

The butler nodded, looked around one more time, before he nodded again and finally left.

She sat there for a while, a little bit bemused. What a peculiar man.

"I'm sorry I've kept you waiting, my dearest Lily," Marlene said as soon as she entered the room. Her green gown flowing in behind her. "My maid made _such_ a fuss about my hair."

Lily eyed the subject in question and grinned mischievously. Marlene's hair looked absolutely ridiculous. "Yes, I can tell."

"How bad is it? Tell me it's not so bad as I think it is."

"Why do you let her experiment on you so?"

Marlene gave her friend a look so fowl, Lily started to wonder if it would dirty her own gown.

"You're otherwise so well... versed, Marlene," Lily teased her, "just tell her you do not care for Paris' latest hairstyles."

"But I do care!" she exclaimed. "I just do not think that this is the latest style in Paris."

Lily couldn't help but agree. Those horrendous curls looked like it would be more in style for a poodle.

"Well, my own maid is waiting for us in the carriage," she offered.

Marlene bit her lip. "I couldn't possibly... Not while she is still upstairs..." She hesitated a moment more. "It would hurt her feelings, Lily."

"Well," Lily said practically, "we still need to go to Alice's. We could do your hair there. Your maid need not know."

"Brilliant," Marlene exclaimed with a clap of her hands, "and when I return with a different hairstyle I can simply say that it got loose."

Lily highly doubted that that contraption would loosen on its own in this century or quite possibly the next. They made their leave of the McKinnon Mansion, and it was only in the carriage that Lily spoke up again. "Marlene, you need to tell your maid."

She sighed. "I will when the moment is most opportune."

Meaning never. "What if you were to go to a ball like this?" Lily stared at her blond curls in mild envy. Marlene really had wonderful hair, especially compared to her frisky red hair. Hers was nearly impossible to tame, and took hours to look even mildly presentable. It was horrible, truly.

"Myra knows I like the classics." She waved away Lily's concern calmly. "I just want her to be a bit more classical when it comes to the French hairstyles. I thought the French loved classics?"

"Hardly," Lily shrugged, a nasty habit she had picked up from Alice over the years. "Maybe she is thinking a little more regal in style."

"I am not Marie Antoinette," muttered Marlene.

Lily gave her hair piece one last look. "You cannot deny that's who she is basing herself on, my dear."

"I do not like Marie Antoinette," she muttered again.

"Neither does France," Lily replied promptly, causing Marlene to slowly smile mischievously again.

* * *

The park was buzzing with people strolling about in small groups. They were, as usual, unchaperoned since there were three of them - Lily's maid had only joined the ride to enjoy her day off in town. Alice's coat was a work of beauty, with its golden and blue ornaments. She blushed when Lily told her so.

"Thank you, my dear Lily, but have you heard? The whole _ton_ is talking about it!"

Lily frowned but it was Marlene who spoke. "Well, out with it then! What has got the _ton_ excited now?"

"Well," Alice said softly so they would not be overheard, which seemed silly to Lily. They were strolling in a park for Heaven's sake. Who could possibly overhear but the birds and trees?

"Well, the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Mansfield were heard exchanging the most curious of names at the ball yesterday."

Lily was still sour that Petunia, her elder sister, had deliberately organised her dinner party to coincide with the event, thereby forbidding Lily from attending. Even though Lily had only made her entrance into society last season. She would not enter her third season, she simply would not. Could you imagine? What if she got shelved as an old maiden?

She did not care to acquire such a title. She didn't care for any title, to be utterly honest, and she didn't even know why she had refused last season's proposals, really. One of them from the duke himself.

Like every girl, she was an ocean of contradictions, her mind changing with the tides.

Lily could feel a scowl crawling on her face and shook it off. Marlene would immediately know who she was thinking of and wouldn't that be embarrassing?

"Oh dear," she therefore simply said but the amused look Marlene gave her told Lily she wasn't fooled in the least.

"Do tell, Alice, don't leave us hanging like this," Marlene uttered dramatically. "The anticipation might prove too much for me!"

Lily nudged her playfully in the side, to which Marlene tapped her invisible hat. Incorrigible, that one.

Alice shook her head in good humor before she continued her story. "Well, Lord Mansfield referred to His Grace as Prongs. Is that not most peculiar?"

"I find the lot of them peculiar," Lily muttered under her breath, causing her friends to giggle.

"Yes, only you would refuse to marry a duke, Lily," Alice teased her.

"Well, I refused to marry _that_ duke."

"Honestly, Lily, maybe it is time to let that go," Marlene offered softly.

That was rich, Lily thought. Marlene McKinnon grudge-holder extraordinaire giving her advice to forgive someone who had wronged her.

"I disagree."

"His insult wasn't even directed at you," she sighed.

"Well, Mr. Snape and I are close friends. Anyone who insults my friend, offends me as well."

"You and your principles," sighed Alice, "how will you find a husband now that the _ton_ thinks you believe yourself even above a duke?"

"I don't believe myself above a duke!"

"So you agree that His Grace is better than you?" asked Marlene disbelievingly.

Lily snorted at that, and immediately stopped when she imagined her Mama smacking her on the head for it. She needed to practice her manners more, Lily thought sadly. "I agree to no such thing. That is as ridiculous as that name Lord Mansfield called him by."

Alice ignored her completely. "I just don't understand you," she sighed. "He's so... _grand_."

"That is his title, love."

"Lily!" gasped Alice with a shaky laugh, as Marlene tried not to smirk. "People can hear you, you know!"

Lily closed her eyes for a few breaths and prayed for patience. "Can we change the subject, please? You know very well how peculiar he makes me."

"If by peculiar you mean rude..." Alice let her sentence die as it should.

"Don't you think these roses are lovely?" Lily exclaimed, trying to sound enthusiastic but failing miserably. "I think they are stunning. Maybe I should suggest to my mother to have some planted in our own garden. What do you think, Alice? Would Petunia like it?"

"Petunia lives with her husband now, doesn't she?" her friend responded.

"That won't stop her from commenting on my roses," Lily rightfully pointed out.

Alice nodded at that. "True enough."

"No, no, no," Marlene finally spoke up, stepping in front of the other two and thus effectively blocking their path. She turned around and first looked Alice in the eye, before she stared at Lily. "I am intrigued."

Lily had already said it today, and she would say it again. "Oh dear."

"Prongs?" Alice offered knowingly. "I knew it would intrigue you. Indeed, I did! I would love to know where it comes from."

"Maybe His Grace has difficulty eating with forks," Lily offered snootily. "Maybe Lord Mansfield calls him so, so he would remember to eat with utensils."

Marlene burst into laughter and even Alice giggled.

"You are unbelievable," she offered.

Lily sighed. "I have to agree with Marlene. It is a strange name to call someone."

"It is, isn't it?" mused Alice. "But how will we find out what it means?"

"None of us have an in with them, and I would not have a reason to address him at all."

Slowly they turned to look at Lily. For a moment, she couldn't look away from Alice's gorgeous coat – which really was an eye catcher – before it dawned on her _why_ they were looking at her so smugly.

"Oh no," she said instantly. "I will not."

"Please, Lily, to satisfy our curiosity."

"Besides," Marlene said smiling like a devil with a plan, "what else do you have to do?"

"Read," she replied, "and – and needlework! I could plant my roses and..." She bit her lip. It wasn't the season to be planting roses, and besides they had a gardener for that. Oh, blast it. She didn't have anything else to do at the moment. Petunia's wedding was last year and therefore not a valid excuse anymore.

"Very well," Lily sighed.

The girls squealed. "I love a good mystery," Marlene said a bit too loudly.

Lily nodded her head smilingly at the lady that gave them disapproving looks. "Good morning!" she greeted her merrily.

The woman gave them a faint smile back, before she steered her husband away from them.

"Oh dear," Lily said for the third time that day, a feeling of impending doom looming in her stomach. This really was not going to end well.

* * *

James Potter, Prongs to a few, and Duke Newcastle to everyone else, was not amused. "You're a cheating bastard, Sirius Orion Black."

"Oooh," Remus said, grinningly. "He invoked the middle name."

Sirius Orion Black, or also known as Viscount Mansfield, shot his best friend daggers the size of Russia. "At least I have one."

"Oooh," Remus said, in unison with Peter this time.

The four men had been friends since their attendance at Oxford University, where they had been legends. James Potter, the Duke of Newcastle, was bloody sure that their story was still being told to the newcomers.

To say that they had been a bit excessive in their mischief might be an understatement. Their knack for getting into trouble had even reached the ears of the army. The boys decided to enlist, against their fathers' wishes of course.

It would not do to have an heir enlist the army, his father had shouted more than once. In the end James had gotten his way, as always, but it would have been better not to have to deal with the whole hassle to begin with. Sirius' family, on the other hand, had been eager for him to leave.

Maybe, they probably had thought, their eldest son would die, making way for their youngest to inherit the title.

The Blacks were bastards, James Potter had concluded more than ten years ago, the whole lot of them. He still agreed with the old sentiment.

"You know, James, that I never cheat, and my mother would highly protest against your other accusation. You, my friend, are just bad at cards," Sirius accused playfully.

James threw his stack of cards at his friend's hat, causing a card throwing fight to break loose. They only stopped when the butler knocked on the door.

"Come in," James called, fishing an ace out of Remus' hair.

"Your grace, I am sorry to interrupt," Michael said, bowing his grey head.

"Not a problem at all, my dear man. What is it?"

"There is someone here to see you, your grace."

Sirius frowned as he threw his last card in Peter's face for good measure.

James tried not to laugh. "I would rather not be disturbed at this time, Michael."

"I have told him that, your grace, but he refused to leave without seeing you."

James pushed himself out of his chair and looked at his friends sternly. "Do try to leave my home whole while I am away."

"We wouldn't dream of destroying anything, Prongsie," grinned Sirius.

"I'll keep them in line," Remus promised after shaking his head at Sirius and Peter who had started throwing cards again.

"Thank you," James grinned, before following his butler out. "Did he say who he was then?"

"He refused to give me a name," Michael said apologetically. "I tried to get him to leave, but he wouldn't budge. He said it was a matter of grave importance."

"It always is," muttered James, before he righted his jacket and entered the room Michael had stationed the visitor in. "Good after-" James' words died on his tongue.

No, he thought, as he felt himself whiten, this could not be good.

* * *

 **List of Characters and Titles**

 **Alice Prewett,** daughter of the Earl of Kent.

 **James Potter,** the Duke of Newcastle.

 **Lily Evans** , daughter of Baron Evans.

 **Marlene McKinnon** , daughter of the Earl of Surray.

 **Petunia Dursley** , born Petunia Evans, daughter of Baron Evans, married to Mr. Vernon Dursley.

 **Sirius Black** , Viscount Mansfield.

 **Note: All characters currently reside in London for the season.**


	2. A Ball

**A/N: These characters belong to JK Rowling. I only lay claim to the plot and my own OC's.**

Hi,

Thank you for your reviews and follows! They really mean a lot to me and I hope I can live up to everyone's expectations. (And that a writer's block stays far, far away from me.) As always, a huge thank you to my lovely beta, Ali, for finding grammar mistakes I missed.

As for the person asking what the _ton_ really was:

The _ton_ of le _bon ton_ is a term often used to describe Britain's high society during the Regency period and later. Basically it's just a fancy term describing and referring to fancy people! If you want to find out more about it; Wikipedia has a whole page dedicated to it!

I shall add it to the list at the end of each chapter if that helps.

This chapter should make it a lot clearer as to where I want to take this story. I hope you guys like it!

Please let me know what you think.

Love,

Kelly

* * *

 **Chapter 2: A Ball**

"I apologise for the dramatics," said Albus Dumbledore, head of the espionage department of the British military. He sat in James' favourite chair as if he owned it. Despite the fact that James was indeed very fond of that chair and cared far less about Dumbledore's attitude, he allowed the old man to have his fun. "But I assure you they were necessary."

"What are you doing here?" James asked, forgetting all about manners, the shock nearly making his hands tremble. What had happened? What was wrong, and, more importantly, who had died?

"James," Dumbledore started, "have a seat."

Albus Dumbledore had a way of doing and saying things that made James Potter feel as if he were back at Oxford. Even after all these years he was nothing but a small boy in the body of a man whenever they were in the same room. The man really was awe-inspiring.

"I prefer to stand," James said curtly, balling his hands into fists.

Dumbledore clasped his hands and his eyes turned serious, another indicator that things had gone terribly awry. "We have a situation in our department. There is a spy among our midst."

James was starting to regret his decision to remain standing after all. "A spy?" he asked disbelievingly. "We are all spies in that department."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, his eyes not twinkling in the slightest as they normally would have done at James' words. "He has been turned over by either the Russians or the French."

"Napoleon?" James asked immediately.

"Possibly," Dumbledore agreed.

"How do you know?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment before he shook his head. "Our men are turning up dead, James. Murdered, tortured and sometimes even worse."

"What could be worse than being tortured and killed?" James asked, immediately regretting the question as he saw Dumbledore's face twist nastily.

"Our spies weren't the only ones we found."

Their families, James thought, horrified. "They have been going after their families?"

"Parents, cousins, infants and even the grandparents. The only surviving Prewett is Molly."

"Gideon and Fabian are dead?"

Dumbledore simply inclined his head, and James, feeling very breathless and shaky all of a sudden, decided to finally take that seat. He sat down on his red sofa and stared blankly ahead. "Last I heard," he finally started after a moment of complete silence, "The Prewett brothers were undercover in Germany."

"So they were," Dumbledore murmured.

James' eyes found his and held them. Brown against blue. Youth against old age. Sadness against determination. "The funeral?"

Dumbledore merely shook his head, and a large sigh escaped James.

This couldn't be true. He could still hear the merry redheads' laughter in his mind. How they had talked about their little sister lovingly, how they had such plans for the future. They had been planning to leave the organisation, as James and his friends had, and start a family.

They would finish their last assignment, they had said, and then they were out for good.

James felt a scream building up inside but swallowed it down again. There was no time for theatrics. He needed to be strong. "The boys are upstairs," he finally said, sounding a bit more sure of himself already.

"All three of them?" Dumbledore asked.

James merely nodded and rang the bell. A servant, he didn't care which one, entered the room. "Fetch them, please." Whoever it was must have understood him because it didn't take his friends long to enter the room.

The silence with so many people in such a small space felt deafening to him, as he watched how his friends took the news.

Peter stared at the ground, shoulders hunched.

Remus' eyes had a suspicious gleam to them that suggested he might cry. James wasn't sure he wouldn't join him if he did.

Sirius, on the other hand, looked like a handsome marble statue. Stoic and unfeeling.

James closed his eyes again. "What can we do to help?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," Dumbledore said, not unkindly. "I am simply here to warn you four. You were among my best agents, and I do not wish for anything to happen to you. You four hold important information that others might try to use against the crown, and this we simply cannot tolerate."

"Do you wish us to retreat?" Sirius asked him finally, his voice hollowing out James.

Dumbledore shook his hands in a mad fashion. "No, no. You need to stay here, continue as you would have normally. Suddenly retreating from society and becoming recluses might make said society even more suspicious of you than they already are."

"Even more suspicious?" Remus Lupin asked, his scar across his face twisting as he grimaced.

What could the _ton_ possibly suspect them of doing? Being rakes? Well, that was only Sirius, which was ridiculous of course since according to the man himself, he didn't have enough hours in one day to make as many conquests as the _ton_ accused him of. James tended to agree.

"Apparently someone heard you call James by his codename," Dumbledore said, staring holes into Sirius' head.

Sirius blinked, as if he was finally recovering from the blow Dumbledore had just dealt him with. The statue finally seemed to melt. James was still trying to wrap his head around Gideon and Fabian being gone. "That's impossible!" Sirius disagreed. "I would never be so careless."

"And yet there is a rumour going around the _ton_ that James is called 'Prongs' in your circle."

"It means nothing," Peter argued, finally breaking his silence. "They can hardly know what it may refer to."

"But others might," Remus whispered, causing James to look at him sadly.

"We shall be more careful," the latter promised.

"Fine," Sirius said, "but it couldn't have possibly been me."

"It doesn't matter," Remus said, louder this time. "The _ton_ knows and we should be extra careful from now on."

"No more addressing each other with your codenames in public," Dumbledore said sternly, with a look in his eyes that told James he couldn't believe he actually had to mention this.

James had never felt more of a boy than he did under Dumbledore's disappointed gaze.

"We won't," Remus assured him. "We will be model citizens from now on."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched. "I'll believe that when I see it." He stood to leave and gazed around the room. "This really is a lovely home, James."

"Thank you," James murmured dutifully.

"Would you mind if I took something with me to eat for on the road? It is a long way back to Paris."

James shook his head. "I shall have Gertrude make you something."

"I appreciate it," Dumbledore said.

James rang for a servant again.

* * *

The ball was in full swing when Lily, her sister and her husband finally arrived. It was Emerald Smith's eighteenth birthday and the family had chosen to throw a ball as her coming out party. Lily couldn't say she minded, she loved their ballroom. It had some hidden alcoves where she often gossiped with her friends, and the crystal chandelier was certainly a marvel to behold.

"Do try not to embarrass us tonight, Lily," Petunia said, her ridiculously long neck allowing her to gaze over the crowd.

"When have I ever?" Lily asked her, trying not to lose her patience.

"Just behave yourself," Vernon, sometimes called Vermin in Lily's head, uttered grumpily from underneath his ugly mustache. "And do try not to scary any suitors away this time."

Lily decided not to honour that with a reply and was about to take off, when she heard her name. She turned around and smiled broadly at her friend.

"Hello, Miss Evans."

"Mr. Snape," she said with a smile, playing along.

"May I have this dance?"

"You may," she laughed, before she allowed Severus Snape to lead her to the dance floor. He was a horrid dancer, of course, but Lily didn't mind. They had been friends since childhood, when his family had lived next to hers.

The Snapes had recently relocated after the loss of their fortune and title, but they were still invited by some of their old friends to happenings like this one. The Snapes and the Smiths went way back, or so Lily had been told by her own father.

"You look stunning," he whispered in her ear as he clumsily swept her across the dance floor.

"Thank you." Lily looked at her friend and her eyes deftly ignored his greasy hair and worn out clothing. "I am so thrilled that you are here, Severus. Our new neighbours aren't nearly as sociable as you were."

"How horrible," Severus teased her. "Tell me, did Potter seek you out again?"

He said it loudly and rather obnoxiously.

Lily bit her lip as she looked around worriedly. Good, nobody seemed to have heard him. "Not so loud," she told him.

"I don't care if people hear me, Lily, and neither should you. He is a -" he seemed to reconsider his words, before he continued. "He is bad sort."

"He is a duke." Lily felt herself obligated to point that out.

"He is bad sort with a title," Severus amended, causing her to smile. "Remember last season? When he chased all your other suitors away?"

Ugh, of course she remembered.

Severus Snape seemed to notice her mood change. "But don't you fret, my dearest Lily, I am here now."

Lily laughed at that and allowed him to twirl her a few times. "You do know that we aren't waltzing right now, right?"

Severus frowned.

"This is a waltz, Severus!" Lily giggled.

"Oh."

Oh, indeed, thought Lily merrily. When the dance was finished she bade him regretfully goodbye, for she had spotted Alice in the crowd. Mr. Longbottom got to her first though, and Lily gave Alice a knowing look and a little wave as she was led to the dance floor.

"Those two will be wed before the end of the season," a voice said beside her.

Lily turned around and grinned at Marlene. "Or engaged."

"Or that." Marlene gave her friend a kiss on the cheek. "Hello, friend."

"Marlene," Lily said good-humouredly.

"Was that Severus Snape I saw you dancing with just now?" Marlene's voice dropped low and the look in her eyes told Lily she didn't approve. Marlene never had.

"He is a good man, Marlene," Lily said defensively. "He's just-"

"Greasy? Slimy? Part of the rubble?"

Lily frowned at her friend. "Don't be so obnoxious."

"I am not being obnoxious, Lily, but it is obvious to everyone in this room but you that he is madly in love with you. And you obviously cannot marry him, so what does he hope to achieve?"

"We are friends! Maybe he merely wants to spend some time with me?" Lily was feeling more frustrated by the minute. Why couldn't they just get along?

"Maybe," Marlene said, "he wants to marry you and take you away to a life filled with misery and little to no money."

"Money isn't everything," Lily finally snapped. "Maybe he doesn't have a title, but he has a kind soul."

"A kind soul?" Marlene repeated incredulously. "Lily, look at him. He is giving half the _ton_ the cut."

"They gave him the cut first!" Lily said childishly. "What do you expect him to do? Just accept the fact that everyone gossips about him as soon as his back is turned?"

"Isn't that what we all do, love?" Marlene sighed. "Spreading rumours is what the _ton_ does best. You cannot deny the fact that he is rude and obnoxious."

"At this moment, you are the one being rude and obnoxious," Lily nearly growled, losing her patience.

Marlene sighed once more and threw her hands up in a surrendering motion. "Very well then, Lily, if that is what you choose to believe."

The two girls stayed in an awkward silence for a few moments, before Lily closed her eyes. "I apologise. Just try not to talk about him like that?"

"Very well," Marlene simply repeated again.

Lily decided that maybe changing the subject would be best. "Who do you have your sights upon this season?"

Marlene's eyes were searching the ballroom and rested on a particular individual.

"Lord Black?" Lily asked disbelievingly.

"Why not? He is handsome and, from what I have heard, witty enough to be my suitor."

"He is not in the least bit proper," Lily said, surprised. "He might even be the most well known rake currently residing in London."

"I am sure those rumours are exaggerated."

Lily wasn't so sure as she considered the men surrounding Lord Black. Her eyes, of course, found their way to the duke and remained there. Sometimes she wondered where she would be now if she had accepted his offer of marriage. Would she be happy? Would she love him?

She knew he had been infatuated with her for quite some time, but certainly infatuation passed?

Marlene nudged her. "Lily? _Lily_ ," Marlene hissed.

Lily blinked and stared at her. "What is it?"

"Stop staring." Marlene looked back to where the duke and his friends stood. "Oh dear heavens, he's coming this way."

Lily blinked again. "Wait. What? Why?"

"Because you were staring at him. Don't forget to ask him about Prongs." Without another word Marlene turned around and vanished in the crowd.

"Wait! Marlene!" Lily called weakly. _Bloody hell_ , she thought. She blessed her footmen for cussing whenever they thought she couldn't hear them. She really needed to cuss in her head right then.

"Good evening, miss."

Lily took a deep, calming breath. She would recognise that voice anywhere.

She could do this, she told herself. How difficult could it be to learn the truth about a secret that fascinated the _ton_? That should be easy enough.

She turned around and pasted one of the hundred smiles her governesses had taught her on her face. "Your grace," she greeted, curtsying.

* * *

Miss Lily Evans made it hard for James. Not because of her stunning beauty. Her sparkling green eyes reminded James of a large green forest in France, and a smile that could even rattle the stars were not the reason for his discomfort. It also wasn't because every other gentleman present in the ballroom wanted her hand in marriage, nor was it because Miss Evans was incredibly clever and sharp.

No, Miss Lily Evans made life hard for James because his brain kept on fumbling and tumbling over itself in its pathetic attempt to impress her.

The Duke of Newcastle did not do pathetic, darn it. He was impressive, he was majestic, he was a _duke_ for Heaven's sake.

None of that seemed to matter whenever the impressive, majestic duke was near her however. Then he was merely a man called James wanting the attention of the _belle_ of the ball.

His ego would have resented her for it, if his heart had not yearned for her.

"Your grace," she said, curtsying after she had finally turned around.

James smiled and gave her a roguish, outrageous wink. "Milady," he teased, bowing as he took her hand. His lips brushed her knuckles and James took the opportunity to take in the scent of her perfume. She always put some on her wrists. Lavender, he thought.

Lavender and Lily.

"How are you finding the ball, your grace?"

"Please, call me James," he said charmingly. "The ball is getting lovelier by the minute, miss."

Lily seemed to consider him for a moment, and James felt his smile slip. Not now, he thought, he was a born charmer. Why did his charm never work on her?

"Well then, _James_. I shall use your given name when we are just among ourselves."

James felt how his name rolled off her tongue. He felt it all the way to his toes, and his smile radiated just a little more.

"I do insist that you call me Lily from henceforth also."

"I shall endeavour to do so," he promised solemnly, wondering what had brought on this change of heart. He had urged her to use his first name for quite some time now, and never had she done so.

Honestly, James had always thought that she despised him. Which was ridiculous. Every lady of the _ton_ adored him. Mamas because they hoped to marry their daughters off, and the daughters because they wanted to be married to him.

He couldn't help it, really, but somehow Lily had never been one of them. It thrilled him beyond relief that he was making progress at last.

"May I say that you look absolutely stunning in that green gown?"

Lily gave him a dimpled smile. "Thank you, your grace. It is one of my favourites," she admitted. It displeased James that she used his title again, but then again she had promised to use his first name when they were just among themselves. Which they currently weren't. James was already planning a morning call for the next day in his head. Anything to hear her say his name.

"It really suits you," he assured her, his eye wandering over the fabric admiringly. It really made her eyes greener, he thought. Amazing what a piece of fabric could do.

Amazing what it would look like off -

Well, those weren't gentlemanly thoughts, he berated himself silently.

Lily bit her lip and looked away for a moment. She nodded at someone across the room, and James, getting worried that she might leave him, decided to take a leap. "May I have the honour of a dance this evening, Lily?"

Her eyes swung to his, and an emotion that James didn't entirely understand filled hers. "You may. My next free dance is the minuet."

Meaning the dance after next.

Lily curtsied once more, and lied. "If you'd excuse me, your grace. You just reminded me that I promised the next dance to Mr. Longbottom."

"Until the minuet," he said, bowing politely again. He watched her walk away with a goofy smile on his face and was just about to laugh merrily, when a hand touched his arm.

"When did that happen?" Sirius asked him, staring after Lily as well.

"She gave me the minuet, Pad."

"Hush," Sirius said, frowning. "Are you drunk?"

James looked his best friend in the eye. "Did you not hear what I just said?"

Sirius shook his head. "For a duke, James, you are pretty sad at times."

James decided to let that comment slide.

"Too bad winning her over would only cause her misery at the moment, eh?" Sirius muttered thoughtfully.

Everything that had happened since Dumbledore's visit crashed into James. What had he been thinking? Courting the lovely Miss Lily Evans? What if she decided she wanted to be courted by him? What if they married?

What if she ended up dead because of him?

"Watch out," Sirius whispered in his ear. "Here come the matchmaking Mamas."

James grumbled something nasty under his breath before he gave his most charming smile to Mrs Wood.

"Duke Newcastle, this is my daughter Elizabeth," she said, pushing her shy daughter forward.

She was pretty enough, James thought, but his thoughts were already occupied with another. "A pleasure."

* * *

 **List of Characters and Titles**

 **Alice Prewett,** daughter of the Earl of Kent.

 **James Potter,** the Duke of Newcastle.

 **Lily Evans** , daughter of Baron Evans.

 **Marlene McKinnon** , daughter of the Earl of Surray.

 **Petunia Dursley** , born Petunia Evans, daughter of Baron Evans, married to Mr. Vernon Dursley.

 **Sirius Black** , Viscount Mansfield.

 **The _ton_ of le _bon ton_** is a term often used to describe Britain's high society during the Regency period and later. Basically it's just a fancy term describing and referring to fancy people! If you want to find out more about it; Wikipedia has a whole page dedicated to it!

 **Note: All characters currently reside in London for the season.**


	3. Fools and Dogs

**A/N: These characters belong to JK Rowling. I only lay claim to the plot and my own OC's.**

Hi,

Thank you for your sweet reviews and follows on this fic! It really inspires me to keep on writing so keep them coming!

I apologise for being so very late with this new chapter. My beta and I had a few issues over the last two weeks. This chapter isn't beta-ed but I tried to spot as many typos and grammatical mistakes myself. So I hope it isn't too horrendous!

I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

Love,

Kelly

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Fools and Dogs**

Lily Evans wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into. She was sure, however, that she was not happy about sharing the next dance with James Potter. Duke or not. She did not care for his fancy title. All she could hear was him mocking her childhood friend over and over again.

She had always been like that. Headstrong and stubborn. She didn't easily forgive, she knew that, but it took a lot before she got up to that point of pure dislike for someone.

The Duke of Newcastle was definitely someone she disliked, and once Lily disliked someone it was rather hard for her to keep what she thought about them to herself.

So she didn't try.

"Honestly, Marlene, do you know what you are doing to me? You and Alice both?" Lily whined in the powder room, right before her dance with the subject of the conversation.

"Don't dramatise so, Lily," Marlene said with a smirk. "You can't do a lot better than a duke."

Lily frowned. "That was not the point, and you know it!"

Marlene smiled, and nudged her friend in the side. "Come on, what is the worst that could happen? You have a little fun with the man? You may start liking him?"

"Well," said Lily with a straight face, "yes."

Marlene laughed at that. "Enough of these dramatics," she said, which Lily found rather ironic coming from her. "Just try to find out what the name meant, alright?"

Lily sighed. Marlene was right of course, she was overdramatising it and dancing with James Potter couldn't possibly be as bad as dancing with Severus had been.

She loved him, purely platonic of course, but that man had two left feet.

"Very well, but you will owe me one."

Marlene nodded, eager to change the subject. "Did you see Alice?"

"She looked pretty happy."

"Happy? She looked delirious. She looked as if the stars had descended from the heavens and were dancing all around her. She had stars in her eyes, Lily! Stars!"

Yes, and then Lily was the dramatic one.

"I wonder what Mr. Longbottom said to her."

"Or what he promised her," Lily added, before the two girls squealed. Mr. Frank Longbottom was a self-made man. Banking, Lily thought. It really was remarkable that he had managed to make a fortune that he didn't inherit a penny of. Naturally, the _ton_ didn't agree. Self-made men were the end of an era, some declared. They did not belong at their fancy parties, and they most definitely shouldn't marry the belles of the ball.

Lily disagreed. She truly liked Mr. Longbottom – as far as she knew him, of course – and thought he and Alice would make a very good couple, indeed.

Alice, being a bit on the bigger side of things, wasn't necessarily a belle of the ball like Lily and Marlene were, but what she lacked in beauty, she made up for in kindness, loyalty and humour. The girls loved one another, that much was clear.

"Oh, just imagine. We could be standing at a wedding this time next year!"

"Surely," Lily frowned as she put a stray strand of hair back where it belonged, "he would not dare make her wait a whole year?" Her eyes met Marlene's in the mirror.

Marlene seemed to consider this. "Probably not," she shrugged. "People rarely wait that long anymore. Maybe in a few months?"

"I truly hope so for Alice's sake." Lily meant it too. It would really destroy her friend if Mr. Longbottom ended up marrying someone else.

Marlene and Lily walked back to the ballroom arm in arm, giggling all the way. "Sounds like this dance is almost over," Marlene teased.

Lily sighed. "You're evil."

"Only a little bit," Marlene laughed. "Have you seen Lord Black? He looks very handsome this evening, don't you agree?"

Lily started to smile at that. "So is he your new lord of the season then?"

Marlene narrowed her eyes playfully. "I do not have lords of the season, Lily. I am not some tavern wench."

Lily laughed. "I never said you were. It's just that after a few weeks your attention seems to... Let me put it this way; you're like a bee. You buzz from flower to flower."

"I can't help it that men are hardly interesting enough to hold my attention for long."

Lily stared at her friend incredulously. "And you think Lord Black is the solution to that problem?"

"Well, he certainly isn't boring."

No, Lily thought, he certainly wasn't. "Just be careful, yes? He's a rake," she whispered softly in her friend's ear. "Make sure that you're... safe?"

"He is not going to steal my honour from me at a ball, Lily."

You never knew with those people, Lily thought. "Perhaps not."

"Lord Black has too much integrity for that," Marlene said confidently, and a tad naively.

"I am quite sure that Lord Black's integrity is hardly up to par," a voice said behind them.

The women turned around and Lily cleared her throat. They had been caught gossiping by the duke and none other than Lord Black himself. _Of course._

"I beg to disagree," Marlene said politely after the men had bowed and the girls had curtsied in greeting.

"Do you have that much faith in my character, Miss McKinnon?" Lord Black asked a little bit surprised.

"Someone ought to, sir."

Lily tried very hard not to raise an eyebrow at Marlene's forwardness. She must have looked a little funny since the duke asked her if she was feeling well.

"Oh, quite well, thank you," she replied politely as a lady should. This being civil thing on behalf of her friends with someone she _hugely_ disliked was getting a little tiresome, she decided.

"I am glad to hear it. How fares your sister? Does she like her new home in... Kent, was it?" his grace inquired politely.

"Indeed," Lily answered, sharing an uncomfortable look with a gloating Marlene. "She is very pleased with her new home."

"Polite conversation bores me," Lord Black said, indeed looking rather bored. "I believe I will find Remus to torture, James."

The ladies stared at him.

"Not literally of course," the duke assured them. "Honestly, Sirius, you need to explain yourself when you say these things," Lily heard him say under his breath.

"We are in polite conversation, James," Sirius said patronisingly with a mischievous glint in his eye, "you should not whisper. It is impolite."

"Indeed it is," Marlene agreed. "I would beg you not to leave, sir. You do liven up the party."

Lily took it upon herself to rein her friend back a little by standing on said friend's toes.

A pained gasp escaped Marlene, causing the men to look at them weirdly this time around.

None of them said anything for a while, until Lord Black – looking a little shaken by the whole thing - picked the conversation up again.

"Alas, I would not dare keep the company of two lovely and beautiful ladies such as yourselves from other gentlemen much worthier than I. It would be rather selfish of me, don't you agree?" Lord Black offered with a playful air. "Besides it is rather straining to keep up with polite conversation when such things are simply not in my nature."

"You exaggerate!" Marlene shook her head. "We are not nearly as polite as society thinks we are," she smiled conspiratorially.

Oh, Good Heavens. "What lady Marlene is trying to say," Lily started, "is that you should not leave on our behalf, milord."

"Oh, but he must," the duke said. "As he tires of polite conversation, so do I tire of him."

"Oy!" Lord Black laughed, before bowing to the ladies. "Until we meet again," he said as he first kissed Lily's hand and then Marlene's. He playfully ignored the duke as he walked away, making his grace shake his head good-humouredly.

He cleared his throat as soon as his friend had departed. "I do believe I was promised the pleasure of a dance?"

Lily forced her smile to broaden. "Indeed you were, your grace." She laid her hand in his and allowed him to lead her away. She looked over her shoulder at Marlene, who seemed to be shaking with withheld laughter. Lily narrowed her eyes at her friend who had the audacity to wave her off with her fingers.

Lily sighed and turned to the duke. "How's Newcastle this time of year, your grace?" she asked him as soon as they started dancing. "I hear it must be quite lovely by the seaside?"

"Not so far up north, I'm afraid. Even the summer days can get rather chilly," he replied swiftly. "But the village itself is quite lovely. There's always some sort of event happening during the summer evenings."

Lily nodded as if she truly cared about the conversation while all she could think was that the man was a phenomenal dancer. He moved as swiftly as a panther and as gracefully as a deer. She decided then and there that if there was a quality she could admire about this man, it would be his dancing. It didn't mean she thought him of good character or acceptable company. It just meant that she adored her toes and the way he was most decidedly not stepping on them. "You dance very well, your grace."

"Thank you," the duke laughed, before they both moved away. Lily caught him messing up his hair from the corner of her eye. "My mother forced me to attend dance lessons since I was five," he said as soon as their hands touched again.

"Five?" Lily replied as she allowed him to twirl her around. "You were five years old when you learned to dance?" She wondered what kind of gazelle she would be on the dance floor if she had had that kind of training.

"It's not a blessing, trust me," he laughed. "I often tried to miss one but for some reason my mother always knew all of my hiding places."

Lily couldn't help but be amused as they danced on the gentle notes of the music. "You hid from your dance lessons?"

"Well, from my dance instructor," he corrected her with a broad smile, seemingly thrilled that their conversation seemed to flow so easily. "Monsieur Trivot was not a man with a lot of patience."

"Oh?" Lily inquired curiously.

"Yes," he said as they moved across the dance floor. "He had this stick he would smack on the ground whenever I did something wrong. The sound would echo across the ballroom." He leaned in a little closer so he could whisper in her ear: "My ears are still ringing."

Lily gave him a true smile this time. "That seems a little harsh, no?"

"He was harsh," the duke answered mischievously, "but I was an unruly child."

"Oh, imagine that." Lily could indeed imagine him as a child. His hair forever a mess, his clothes askew as he darted around a grand ballroom trying to avoid the grasp of a tall man with a curly mustache. "You must have given your poor mother a lot of trouble."

This seemed to amuse him greatly.

* * *

My poor mother, James thought. His poor mother had ruled the household with an iron fist. The only one who was allowed to play pranks and misbehave in that house had been her. He smiled fondly at the memory of her leaving her husband to fence off a duckling by himself. His father had been positively terrified of ducks - why James never knew – and it had taken him quite a while before his father had figured out he could simply walk around the duckling. He could still hear his mother's laugh in his ear; "Let him figure it out, Jimmy. He needs to feel strong and manly every once in a while too."

His father had given his mother the stink eye for two minutes before he had caved and had kissed her cheek lovingly. "You're really something," he had laughed.

"Something astoundingly wonderful?"

"Something astoundingly annoying," he had joked.

"Your grace?" James shook himself from his memory. "Where did you go?"

"Wool gathering," he replied with a rueful smile. "My poor mother would have approved of you, you know."

"Would have?" she asked him, her eyes scanning his face worriedly.

"She passed away."

Her mouth made a perfectly round O-shape. "Oh, I am so sorry."

"Don't worry about it," James murmured under his breath. They fell in an uncomfortable silence that James barely could detect. He was still baffled by the fact that Miss Lily Evans, belle of the ball, the one girl he had wanted to marry last season and the one girl that had ever rejected him, was dancing with him. She was sweeping across the dance floor like a princess – no, a queen. She was a queen to him. Fierce, loyal and beautiful but someone to be feared all the same.

Maybe he had phrased that a bit oddly. It wasn't that he feared her per se, it was more that he feared the power she had over him. One sentence could shatter him, had shattered him already and he wasn't eager to repeat the process.

And yet he couldn't seem to stay away from her. She was a twinkling, dazzling light and he was the moth attracted to it.

Too bad that he would not propose to her again. He had hoped that maybe she would accept his offer of marriage this season. When the dance finished he took a deep bow. "Thank you for the pleasure of your company, Miss Evans."

"The pleasure was all mine, your grace." She curtsied for him and he offered her his hand so he could guide her back to her sister and brother-in-law. He saw her face darken with each step that took them closer to her family and just as James started to wonder if he should change course, his name was called joyfully by the family members in question.

"Such an honour to meet you, your grace. It truly is." Vernon Dursley was a monstrosity of a man, at least in his opinion. His neck seemed to be swallowed by his chin, something which James hadn't really witnessed before and was horribly disgusted by. He knew it wasn't nice of him, to judge someone by their appearance, but when one looked as horrible as one's personality was… James figured he was forgiven for this small sin.

"Likewise," he replied politely nonetheless. Anything for her. "Now, Miss Evans, I hope that you will soon give me the pleasure of another dance again." He brought the hand he was still holding to his lips and brushed his lips against her knuckles. To his utter delight he saw how she blushed a light pink colour. If he didn't know her better, he would almost say she looked delicate.

However, he knew from experience – and his toes itched at the memory of her stamping on them in anger – that Miss Lily Evans was everything _but_ delicate. Sometimes he wondered if Dumbledore shouldn't have enlisted her in his schemes.

Lily Evans would make a frightening soldier and spy, indeed.

At least this he hoped to be true. He had once thought her an elegant butterfly before he had actually met her, and although everything she did was acceptable in polite society – save for nearly breaking his toes, but they were out of sight even then – James had always had the feeling that there was _more_ to Lily Evans than the eye saw.

And James Potter was eager to discover everything. It was his job, after all. Or rather, had been his job. Would it be bad to send some of his old acquaintances in the field to discover more about her?

Probably.

"Of course, your grace," Lily said with a brilliant smile.

James gave her a roguish grin and ignored the frown that started to appear on Mrs. Dursley's face. "Good evening to you both," he said after he had bowed to Miss Evans, and repeated the process to her family. He kissed Mrs. Dursley's hand and then sauntered off as if without a care in the world.

He was quickly pulled aside by Remus though. "We need to talk," he whispered urgently.

"Can't it wait?" James asked, frowning. "I'm gloating."

"You're being a baffoon," his friend said deadpannedly, causing James to frown in almost the exact manner Mrs. Dursley had before.

"That was uncalled for," he muttered darkly.

Remus ignored him. "Peter is drunk on the punch again."

James sighed. "Where is he then?" he asked just before he could hear a very off tune voice sing about a rat that fell in love with a lady rat. James and Remus exchanged an exasperated look when a second voice merrily joined Peter's.

"Is he drunk as well?" Remus asked, looking quite shocked at the spectacle in front of them.

"He hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since we arrived," James said gloomily. "I'm going to bloody well murder him."

The voice kept on singing merrily, unaware that he was about to get throttled by one very angry duke. "There once was a dog, such a handsome devil he was. Then he looked into a pool, and fell in love with himself, that fool."


	4. Quick update

Hi guys,

I'm so sorry for the wait. I'm putting this story on hold for now because, frankly, another project has been eating up all my attention.

I'm attempting to write my own novel (attempting being the keyword here), and it's very exciting! I'm really stoked about it and I can't wait to let people read the completed first draft.

I hope to have it finished before NaNoWriMo. Whether I'm spending NaNo writing on Pride and Prongs or of the second installment of my novel (now that I still have the inspiration for it) remains to be seen.

Either way, I hope to continue P&P in December **the latest**. So I'm not quitting or abandoning it. I really love the idea I had for this story, and although it might take me a little while to get my muse away from my other project, I'll make it happen. I'll blackmail her with chocolate if I have to.

Thanks again for your patience, the follows and the kind messages.

You guys are the best!

Love,

Kelly


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